Klutz
by clemonlime
Summary: Reid is bored, Hotch is working, blood is shed.


Reid was bored out of his mind. He'd done all of his work and snuck a few files from his coworkers in anticipation, but the weekend couldn't have felt any longer. Hotch seemed stressed out over his work, and he would offer to finish it for him, but he knew how the older man hated other people doing his own labor. Made him feel uncomfortable, like he wasn't being the best he could be (even when Reid assured him that he was the best man he'd ever met).

The sound of paper rustling and pen scratching was often a sound that soothed him, but it got under his skin. He had no intention of reading, writing, doing anything that would occupy him, but the desire to do something was ever present.

"Aaron," Reid whined quietly, kicking his feet in the air, his back pressed against the carpet. "Can I wake Jack up?"

"No," Hotch shook his head fondly, not looking up from his work but letting his lips curl up at the ends. "What about those articles you've been meaning to write?"

"Ugh," Reid groaned and pushed himself off of the ground. "I have writer's block."

"You, of all people, should know that's bullshit," Hotch remarked.

"Hate it when you're right," he replied.

"I'll be done in an hour, I think." Hotch flipped through the papers again, grimacing. "Hour and a half?"

"Hour and forty-five. I'm gonna take the recycling down to the bin," Reid murmured, slinking off the couch and pressing a kiss to Hotch's head as he padded to the sink, propping up the small cardboard box of soda cans and milk jugs. He looked back at his work-comatose partner. "Aaron."

"Hm?" Hotch looked up from his work and gave a tired smile, "You look so handsome."

"Thanks?" Reid shifted in the doorway, blushing, "After you're done, can we put a movie on and pull out the couch?"

"If you want to, love. As long as you're here, I'll be happy," Hotch turned his eyes back to his work, "Hurry back."

Reid shuffled over to the door, fumbling with the doorknob before walking out the door. His bare feet hit the pavement and he shuffled outside to the end of the driveway, into the grass. He patted his pocket for his phone to use as a flashlight, but as he realized he left it inside, sighed and trekked on. He threw the lid to the bin open and tossed everything in his arms into the black hole in front of him before he quickly closed it.

"Okay," Reid said slowly, turning to walk back to the house, trying to plan ahead what he would do when he stepped back inside, but he didn't get to think about it long. "FUCK!"

A sharp, stabbing pain erupted in his foot and Reid fell forward on his knees, dragging himself forward in order to get away from whatever had attacked. He blinked, trying to see through the dark, but he also needed to get inside and make sure everything was okay.

"Aaaaron," he whined, taking deep breaths through his nose as he pushed himself up and limped slowly to the door. He pushed the door open, pulling himself into the light and looking down at himself. Blue-green shards of glass stuck up from the heel of his foot, warm blood running around to his ankle and dropping to the floor. He groaned, "Why me?"

He glanced around the corner to Aaron, opening his mouth to ask for some help, but he saw Aaron's Thinking Face on—the face he had when he was so deep in thought that any disturbance would derail him—and gently closed his lips.

The sterilization took less than ten minutes, but to accurately patch it up with enough pressure for efficient healing took 15. Reid grumbled to himself as he sat on the toilet seat, wrapping and rewrapping his foot, holding the gauze in place in between. The glass sat in a small dish on the bathroom sink for him to examine in the morning, something for him to do. There wasn't a need for a tetanus shot, the glass wasn't aged and definitely hadn't been out there for long.

Reid sighed, cleaning his hands and the bathroom before picking up the dish and taking it up to his office. He placed it beside the microscope, making sure everything was easily available for the morning, before heading back downstairs.

"Spencer?" Hotch's voice floated up the stairs, and Reid's ears perked up as he stumbled down the hallway. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah!" He stuck his head around the corner to see Hotch standing by the door, "Why?"

"Is this your...?" He pointed to the puddle of red on the ground with a scared look on his face. "Love, what is this?"

"Oh, yeah, I..." Reid walked over the rest of the way, "I forgot, I'll clean it up."

"No, honey. It's fine, I can do it." The older man tilted his head as he saw the medical tape on his foot, "What's that?"

"I stepped on some glass outside," Reid replied, shuffling into the kitchen and grabbing a rag. "I cleaned it and stuff, don't worry."

"Don't worry?" Hotch shook his head and pulled the skinny body into his arms as he returned, "You weren't going to tell me, were you?"

"You were working?" Reid's voice cracked and he cleared his throat, "I would have explained later, if you asked."

"Oh, Spencer."

"What do you mean _oh, Spencer_?" Reid pouted and bent down to clean the floor, blowing his hair from his face.

Hotch gently ran his fingers up the back of his partner's neck, "So selfless."

"I was embarrassed about it, Aaron. I wouldn't have necessarily been excited to tell you how stupid I was."

"Just wear shoes next time," Hotch pressed a kiss to Reid's head. "And bring a flashlight."


End file.
